Teach us to count the days

16 Sep

I admit that Monday and Thursday are my least favorite days of the week. Monday because the weekend is over; Thursday because it’s Friday Eve.  As I was internally bemoaning the fact that today is only Thursday and not Friday, I came to a realization that convicted me of my selfish thoughts.

The Holy Bible tell us that the Lord created it all in six days and saw that it was very good.  Then, on the 7th day, He rested, blessed the 7th day and made it holy.  If that’s what I believe, then who am I to think that those 7 days aren’t good enough for me?

Monday isn’t the problem. Thursday isn’t the problem. The problem is Me-day…simply defined as every day of the week when I erroneously think that it’s all about me.  As I reflected on that this morning, I realized that I need to change my attitude, especially about Mondays and Thursdays.

Today is Thursday, so I’ll start there. As I reflected on it this morning, I reminded myself that it was a Thursday when I heard the first cries of my only child as he took his first breaths of life. This was the day doctors had warned us about–the day when we would likely say hello and then goodbye, all in the same day. It was on a Thursday that I became a mother…the day I truly began living for someone other than myself.

I know I’m not alone in my lack of appreciation for Mondays. It’s the day we all seem to dread, and the day we all hope goes by quickly.  So, I spent some time this morning just thinking about Mondays. I realized that I had the privilege of experiencing 247 Mondays with Sammy, and I loved every single one of them.  How I wish I had more of those Mondays to look forward to–all 24 of those long Monday hours that we take for granted by wishing them away.

Don’t we often say that we’d prefer to just stay in bed or go back to bed in an attempt to avoid Mondays entirely?   If we actually had the option to boycott Mondays, the events and circumstances of our lives in the world around us would still continue.  Sammy died at 10:40pm on a Monday.  When I awoke that Monday morning, I didn’t know that it would be my last day with him.  If I had elected to wish that Monday away, I would have missed the opportunity to share those final hours with him.  If I had exercised my option to boycott Mondays, Sammy would have lived his final day without me there.  It was the worst day of my life, but I’m so glad that I didn’t wish it away.

Beginning today, I’m changing my attitude. No longer will I whine and moan about Mondays and Thursdays; instead, I’ll remember the gift of 247 Mondays.  I’ll remember the Thursday when I became Sammy’s mom, and how there was enough joy that one day to make every Thursday in my life special.  Beginning today, not only will I make every day count; I’ll be sure to count my days as blessings and thank the Lord for the creation of every one of them.

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